


you don't have to be nice

by ohmcgee



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But you've always gravitated towards trash, haven't you, Bruce?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	you don't have to be nice

**Author's Note:**

> I saw [this](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CHHFuUIUIAAjy53.jpg) and had a lot of feelings about it, then this happened.

“He’s pretty,” Bruce hears behind him -- heard the soft footsteps, Italian leather shoes, and smelled the man’s heavy cologne long before he’d even decided to speak to him -- as he’s grabbing another glass of champagne. Bruce turns, fingers the stem of the glass and tries to remember the man’s name. Jeffrey, Jefferson, something’s with a J. 

“Jeremy Alexander,” the man says, extending an arm and shakes his hand. “Vale introduced us at that gala last month.”

Bruce nods. “Good to see you again, Jeremy. How’s business?” He has no idea what this man does for a living. Bruce scans the room, doesn’t have to be a brilliant detective to know that who Jeremy was talking about is standing in front of the punchbowl chatting with the server, making her smile. His shirt is untucked as is his collar, the knot in his tie not as tight as it was when they left the house, and Jeremy is absolutely right. There are supermodels and women who have had to take out a second mortgage to pay for all their plastic surgery in this ballroom and Jason’s the prettiest thing Bruce can see for miles. 

Jeremy ignores his veiled attempt at changing the subject, sees Bruce staring across the room at Jason and Bruce suddenly remembers more about him, like how he’s a disgusting, slimy prick. “It's interesting,” Jeremy says, his tone sweet like cotton candy, like something so sweet it makes you want to be sick. “All those boys you’ve taken in, the ones that have no one else to go home to.”

Bruce doesn’t give the man the pleasure of seeing him react, keeps staring forward, smiling at the ladies who walk by their path and giving a nod, taking a sip of his champagne every now and then as Jeremy spews his filth, talks of things he doesn’t have the slightest idea about. 

“But that's what you like, isn't it?” Jason turns around about that time, turns a smile toward Bruce that lights up the entire room, fills Bruce’s chest with warmth. “The _trash._ ”

Bruce waits until Jason turns back around, then sets his champagne glass on the buffet table. “Jeffrey.” He says. “You should not have said that.”

 

***

Jason pulls Bruce’s hands to him in the limo, runs the soft pads of his fingers across Bruce’s bloody knuckles. “Musta hit that guy pretty hard,” he says, sucks through his teeth. “What happened to defenseless rich boy Brucie Wayne?”

Bruce pulls his hand back, fingers the curl at Jason’s temple. “He was out of line.” He says, tugging at his tie until the knot comes loose. “How was Rosita?”

“Good,” Jason says, reaching out and slipping Bruce’s tie out from around his neck, drops it in the floorboard and crawls into Bruce’s lap, frames his face with his hands. “Thanks for getting her that job.” He kisses Bruce soft, sucks on his bottom lip. “You know you can’t go around punching every guy that wants a piece of me, right?”

“Hn,” Bruce says, carding his fingers into Jason’s hair, dragging him back in. “Watch me.”


End file.
